


trust, fall

by nightbaron079



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbaron079/pseuds/nightbaron079
Summary: smashing this wall / i will no longer be afraid
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	trust, fall

This has always been an exercise of faith, Jeonghan thinks to himself as he gulps down another mouthful of water. Faith, dedication, and a ton of caffeine (tea, coffee, or Coca Co—oops, Pepsi).

The practice room was more crowded than usual, a feat for a group that already has a baker's dozen worth of members. He leaned his head against the mirror, idly watching Wonwoo and Seokmin as they rehearsed their own lift sequences. Practice schedules were tight for this particular performance, and there was a quiet hum of electric tension running through the room. Soonyoung sits a few feet away from him, eyes trained on the members rehearsing the steps he had lost three nights of sleep over.

Yawning, he closes his eyes and wills himself to doze off. It's closer to morning than night, and he avoids looking at the wall clock at the corner of the practice room on purpose. Comeback season was always hard, but they always treat every performance like it's their first and last.

And if he doesn't get his shit together, it's strongly leaning towards the latter.

"You okay?" he hears a familiar voice ask.

Jeonghan feels a cold bottle being pressed to his cheek and he smiles. "Yeah, just a little tired," he responds. 

"You're not feeling dizzy or anything, right?" the same voice continues.

Jeonghan opens his eyes and laughs at the mop of ash blue hair that greets him. He grabs the bottle of sparkling strawberry soda and pokes its side to the other person's cheek, right at the dimple.

"Hey!" Seungcheol whines, rubbing at his cheek. "That's cold!"

Jeonghan laughs, sticking out his tongue at the older's direction for good measure. "That's what you get for disturbing my beauty sleep."

"You're already pretty, though," Seungcheol replies earnestly.

Jeonghan scoffs. "Stop flirting," he scolds.

Seungcheol pouts. "Still true though," he mumbles.

Jeonghan unscrews the bottle of strawberry soda, tipping his head back and drinking half the bottle's content. When he looks at Seungcheol's direction, ready to retort, he finds the older staring at the column of his neck as his eyes follow the path of the drop of strawberry soda coursing its way past Jeonghan's Adam's apple.

He clears his throat and Seungcheol's eyes snap back towards his face.

Their gazes hold.

"Jeonghan-hyung, your turn," Soonyoung calls out.

The moment passes.

Seungcheol stands up first, offering his hand to Jeonghan. Jeonghan takes it, just like how he's taken all that Seungcheol has willingly given him through the years.

He runs through the lyrics in his head as he turns his back on the mirror, watching as the other members prepare to catch him for his free fall part of the choreography. He looks across the room, across the sea of people, to meet the eyes of one person.

Seungcheol holds his gaze, and he feels his lungs expand, his heart a steady staccato thrum in his ribcage. Jeonghan bounces on the balls of his feet before he makes a running start, closes his eyes, and lets himself fall. 

Cold air whistled past as he lets gravity do its work.

Warmth greets his back as a pair of arms catch him, and he finally lets himself breathe.

_Safe._

Seungcheol has his arms around him, carrying most of his weight. Wonwoo, Jisoo, Minghao, and Mingyu all look at Jeonghan with wide eyes as Seungcheol helps him settle back on his feet.

Jeonghan punches Jisoo's arm weakly, ignoring the shit-eating grin on his friend's face as he listens to Soonyoung's instructions. He tries (and fails) to ignore the hand cradling the small of his back as Seungcheol nods along next to him.

The hand on Jeonghan's back slides down to his side, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"Sorry," Jeonghan says.

"You did well," Seungcheol reminds him. "Don't worry about it much, okay? Just... let yourself fall. I'll catch you."

Jeonghan will think about these words two weeks later as adrenaline pumps through his veins, turning his back to the camera as he braces himself for his run. From across the stage, Seungcheol gives him a tiny nod.

_Got you._

Jeonghan inhales, keeping his voice steady as he sings his line and runs up the makeshift steps of the dancers' backs. A pause, as he reaches up towards the light in time with the song.

A beat, as he crosses his arms across his chest.

A rush, as he lets himself fall.

A homecoming, as the same warm pair of arms catches his fall.

* * *

“Come in,” Seungcheol responds to the soft knock, expecting Wonwoo to enter the room. A head of black hair pops from in between the open gap of the door, but it was not his former roommate.

“Hey,” Jeonghan greets, eyeing Seungcheol’s current state of undress with half a smirk on his face. Seungcheol slowly raises his arms to cross them over his very naked chest, feeling his face warm up as Jeonghan laughs. “We’re going out.”

“Oh… do I need to tell the manager hyungs?” Seungcheol says, looking down to pat at his sheets for his missing phone. “Who are you going out with?”

“You,” Jeonghan states, opening the door wider and leaning against the frame. 

Seungcheol looks up, his phone in hand. “Me?” he asks to be sure. 

Jeonghan waves his hand at the room that Seungcheol now occupies alone. “See anyone else here?”

“...why?” Seungcheol asks.

“Get dressed,” Jeonghan replies, turning from Seungcheol’s doorway before pausing and looking at Seungcheol over his shoulder. “Unless you want to go and flash everyone the results of your gym plan.”

Seungcheol flings a pillow at his door’s direction and raises his blanket to his chest with a huff. The sound of Jeonghan’s laughter echoes down the hallway as he leaves to let Seungcheol dress. He sighs, saying a sad goodbye to his warm sheets as he slips on some sweatpants and stares at his wardrobe in confusion.  
  
He considers wearing the sweatshirt he used earlier, then remembers that Mingyu scolded him to put it in the laundry basket (“Hyung you’ve used that shirt two times this week; believe me it’s dirty.”). Picking up a shirt from the top of the pile of clean laundry he has yet to put away, he pulls the garment over his head before frowning at his reflection. He tilts his head before pulling the shirt off again.

This goes on for the next two shirts on the pile, one sweatshirt that suspiciously looks like Jeonghan’s, a button-down, and another shirt before he groans and runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

“This is not a date, Choi Seungcheol,” he mumbles to no one in particular. “Stop trying to impress him, he doesn’t care.” 

If he ends up deciding to wear a sweater that Jeonghan has said looked pretty on him because it matched his hair, no one else needs to know.

Jeonghan looks up from his phone when Seungcheol emerges from his room, already holding out a face mask for the other. “Thought you fell asleep on me.”

Seungcheol takes the face mask and slips on a bucket hat for good measure. “I won’t bail on you,” he says. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan says. “Yeah, I know.”

“Why did I even go here with you, I’m sleepy,” Seungcheol complains, yawning as a punctuation mark to his sentence and to prove a point. He places an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders as the other leans back on him, looking up at the menu with half-lidded eyes. 

“Shhh, we’re getting you coffee you big baby,” Jeonghan says, shuffling closer into Seungcheol’s space as they line up at the nearest cafe. 

“I’m not a baby!” Seungcheol whisper-yells. 

“You love it when I comb my fingers through your hair,” Jeonghan counters. “Didn’t you say you fall asleep easier when I do that?”

“You said you won’t use that against me!” Seungcheol says, fake-gasping for good measure.

“All is fair in love and war, Seungcheollie,” Jeonghan says, gaze and voice soft as he reaches out to pull the brim of Seungcheol’s bucket hat over his eyes.

Seungcheol’s words screeched to a stop halfway out his mouth and made a detour back to the vicinity of his heart. There, it joined several emotions that he’s long been biting his tongue to keep unsaid.

He has long been used to the way Jeonghan twists words around like it was an Olympic sport. Seungcheol has long known how the other took pleasure in winning arguments and in Always Being Right. Seungkwan has several videos of the two oldest members bickering about random things, always ending with Jeonghan’s laugh and Seungcheol’s pout.

The other members have pointed out how he has always bent to Jeonghan’s will, on multiple separate occasions. He ignores Jihoon’s raised eyebrows whenever the topic comes up, chalking it up to “leader diplomacy” and “Jeonghan’s always right, anyway.” (to which Jihoon has responded, without fail, “I call bullshit, Seungcheol; your eyes are literal _hearts_. Not that I’m not enjoying the rom-com you’ve made of your life but _come on man_ , work with me here.”) 

Seungcheol feels the nudge of Jeonghan’s elbow through his sweater, and he pulls his hat away from his eyes. “I don’t wanna fight,” he mumbles. “Wars are messy and unnecessary.”

“Don’t like fighting either,” Jeonghan agrees. “Love is always the best option.”

Seungcheol snorts. “You like arguing with everyone,” he points out.

“I like _talking_ ,” Jeonghan gently corrects. “Banter is different from fighting.”

Seungcheol laughs softly. “Whatever you say,” he gives in. 

The cafe lighting is cozy, reflecting warm and bright on Jeonghan’s eyes. Idly, Seungcheol thinks about the way he knows the exact shape of the curve of Jeonghan’s smile under his mask.

Seungcheol likes knowing these things about Jeonghan. It was a grounding part of him, like it was one other clue that led him closer to finding the answer.

Closer to letting himself ask the questions that have been making his heart do funny dances in his ribcage.

“Why here?” Seungcheol asks. The walking path around the Han River is silent except for the scuff of their shoes against the pavement and their steady breathing. It was Seungcheol’s favorite time, at his favorite place.

With his favorite person.

Jeonghan shrugs. “I always see it when I look out the dorm windows, but I haven’t been around here in a long time,” he replies.

The evening summer breeze is cool on their skin. Seungcheol huddles his shoulder against the wind, glad he chose the sweater.

“I miss the quiet,” Jeonghan says before he goes ahead a couple of steps and turns, walking backward while facing Seungcheol. “Wanted a share of that peace and quiet you like so much.” 

Seungcheol hums under his breath in agreement.

“Besides, you like going here a lot,” Jeonghan continues. “Here I could have you all for myself.”

Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, covering his mouth with one hand. “How do you say those things with a straight face?” he asks, hoping that it was dark enough to hide his blush from Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan tilts his head. “Because I mean them…?” he replies.

Seungcheol’s responding laugh comes out a beat too late. “Why are you not sure?” he asks.

Jeonghan laughs a little. “I’m just not sure if that’s the answer you wanted to hear,” he explains. He shakes his head, giggling before turning around and continuing to walk with his back to Seungcheol.

Seungcheol sighs. “So much for ‘all is fair in love and war,’” he mumbles under his breath, kicking at a pebble on the path. It skids across the pavement before hitting the back of Jeonghan’s left shoe. 

Jeonghan looks back at Seungcheol, lips caught in between a smile and a pout. 

Seungcheol tilts his head, eyebrows raised. _“What?”_ he mouths.

Jeonghan tilts his head the same direction.

Seungcheol smiles, walking towards Jeonghan.

They began walking again together, the lamps lighting up the path making it impossible to tell where their intertwined shadows begin and end.

“Ha!” Seungcheol crows, arms raised in victory as the basketball goes cleanly into the hoop. 

“Show off!” Jeonghan calls out, his voice carrying no bite. Seungcheol runs around, dribbling the ball and happily pretending he’s in the NBA. Jeonghan flops to the ground by the sidelines, stealing a sip from Seungcheol’s drink. 

“Stop running around, you’re making me dizzy,” Jeonghan says. 

Seungcheol drops the basketball and heads straight towards Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan makes a surprised noise as Seungcheol crouches in front of him and cradles his face, looking into his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Seungcheol asks.

The corners of Jeonghan’s lips lift into a smile. Seungcheol watches as Jeonghan carefully raises a hand to wrap around his wrist, drawing circles into his pulse point with his thumb. 

“I’m fine, just a normal kind of dizzy,” Jeonghan reassures him.

“But…” Seungcheol trails off.

Jeonghan pulls down at Seungcheol’s wrist until they were seated next to each other. “Just stay here beside me,” he says. “It helps, I promise.”

Hesitant, Seungcheol sits down beside Jeonghan. He hears a relieved sigh before his nostrils were filled with the scent of strawberry shampoo and Jeonghan’s aftershave.

“Cheollie,” Jeonghan starts.

“Hmm?”

“You know I like you right?”

Seungcheol starts, swiveling his head in Jeonghan’s direction. Jeonghan is already looking at him, eyes warm even under the harsh floodlights of the outdoor court.

Jeonghan laughs, looking down and tugging at his earlobe. “I was worried you didn’t get the hint,” he says.

“No wait,” Seungcheol says after a minute. “You too?”

Jeonghan laughs. “That’s what I’m telling you…?” he says.

Seungcheol laughs nervously, holding his head in his hands. “Oh my god,” he says.

“Are you in shock?” Jeonghan asks, raising his hand to rub circles in between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades.

“Y-yeah, give me a minute,” Seungcheol manages.

“Okay,” Jeonghan says. “You can kiss me after that minute if you want.”

Seungcheol groans, falling sideways so his head is on Jeonghan’s shoulder. He settles in closer, burying his face in the junction where Jeonghan’s pulse beats in his neck, strong and clear. 

He breathes in, timing his breaths to the beat of Jeonghan’s heart.

* * *

“Hyung! You there? Can I borrow your computer, Wonwoo-hyung and I wanna play—” Seokmin hollers as he opens the unlocked door to Seungcheol’s room. He stops in his tracks, causing the half-asleep Wonwoo to walk right into his back.

“Ow, gimme a warning will you?” Wonwoo grumbles. 

Seokmin turns to Wonwoo, eyes wide. “I think we don’t need to play right now.”

Wonwoo rubs at his eyes and yawns at the direction of Seokmin’s face. “You woke me up because that raid you scheduled with the team—who may I remind you all live in timezones 12 hours ahead—”

“Wonwoo-hyung, I really don’t think we should be here right now,” Seokmin interrupts.

“What?” Wonwoo asks. “Why are you blushing?”

“Seungcheol-hyung’s in bed...” Seokmin starts.

Wonwoo blinks at him slowly. “...it’s his room, of course he’s in there.”

“Jeonghan-hyung’s in the bed too,” Seokmin finishes.

“Oh,” Wonwoo replies, standing on his tiptoes and peeking over Seokmin’s shoulder. “ _Oh wow_.”

“Yeah, we don’t need to play right now,” Seokmin says, pushing Wonwoo out of the room and closing the door behind him gently.

“Do we tell the others though?”

  
  


* * *

To: **Seungcheol**

From: **Jihoon**

/Finally/, Kwan owes me drinks, thanks hehe

Proud of u.

To: **Jeonghan**

From: **Jisoo**

Use protection, love you both.

(Not that way, Cheol, stop pouting and reading over Han's shoulder)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading my very first SVT fic! Hope you loved it as much as I loved writing it! Excited to write about the others as well!
> 
> This fic started as [a Twitter drabble](https://twitter.com/scribblemydream/status/1277995968537882625?s=21), all because of Seungcheol casually recounting during that one fan sign event that he was the one who caught Jeonghan most times during the practice... and the live performance. The performance stage of Fearless has not left my consciousness ever since. Thus... *waves hands at the fic*
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta readers [Jessica](https://twitter.com/konnichihello?s=21) (who caught me writing the last part when I sent her the draft HAHA), as well as [spacefold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacefold/profile) and [sashim1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashim1/profile) for helping me with this!


End file.
